Many of these are obscure works that I have never heard of,are hard to access, and I would give my eye teeth (metaphorically) to read and savor.He wrote in several different genres and explored various disciplines in the social sciences and literature outside the realm of children's literature.King Matt the First and Th Bankruptcy of Little Jack are two books, only the first of which I have read in snippets and the second I am not familiar with. Certainly not with Kajtus the Sorcerer (1934). He also wrote for adults including the following books: Children of the Street (1901), Child of the Salon, 1906,Moski, Joski and Srule, 1909.Jozki, Jaski i Franki, [Jozki, Jaski and Franki, 1910],How to Love a Child, 1920,The Child's Right to Respect, 1929,Rules of Life, 1930. He also wrote poetic prose [One On One With God: The Prayers of Those Who Do Not Pray].
From E. Ringelblum, Kronika getta warszawskiego (Warsaw: Czytelnik, 1983), pp. 606-607. ) This is an acc ount of Korczak as given by Nachum Remba, and supposedly he was the last to speak with Korczak and was to go to the community (he propsed) to seek intervention for Korczak which refused ,never wanting to leave the children for a moment.That was not a march to the wagons, but an organized, mute protest against banditism! Those were the first ranks who went to their death with dignity, looking at the barbarians with contempt. (...) Even the Order Service stood at attention and saluted. (QUOTE)
Marek Rudnicki's account gives a very different perspective: The atmosphere was dominated by an enormous sense of passivity, automatism and apathy. No one was visibly moved that it was Korczak who was going, there was no saluting (as some people describe), there certainly was no intervention on the part of Judenrat members, and no one approached Korczak. There were no gestures, no singing, no proudly lifted heads, and I don't remember whether anyone was carrying the banner of the Orphans' Home, though some people say this was the case.(QUOTE)
H. Grynberg, Prawda nieartystyczna (Unartistic Truth), (Berlin, Archipelag, 1984), p. 122. Here is yet another account of the final trail of Janusz Korczak "That amazement that a sick, old person, exhausted, abandoned, betrayed by the world in which he believed, a professional altruist, monk and the realest of saints (despite the anger, which he did not conceal) did not betray himself and did not hide in a hole to save his own pathetic biological being-that amazement-this was almost an abrogation of his entire life's work. Those speeches and tales of his heroic death because he did not want to leave the children on the way to the gas chambers and live as if nothing had ever happened-constitute the greatest disrespect for his noble soul."
This account depicts Janusz as a noble betrayed and necessarily angry soul; his "heroic death" is a false picture disrespecting that noble soul.
He left behind a great deal of literary and theoretical works, including
works of children's literature such as Krol Macius Pierwszy (King Matt the
First, 1922); Bankructwo Malego Dzeka (The Bankruptcy of Little Jack, 1924;
Kiedy znow bede maly (One Day I Will Be Small Again, 1925; Kajtus czarodziej
(Kajtus the Sorcerer, 1934), as well as for adults (including Dzieci ulicy
[Children of the Street, 1901]; Dziecko salonu [Child of the Salon, 1906];
Moski, Joski i Srule, [Moski, Joski and Srule, 1909]; Jozki, Jaski i Franki,
[Jozki, Jaski and Franki, 1910]; Jak kochac dziecko [How to Love a Child, 1920];
Prawo dziecka do szacunku [The Child's Right to Respect, 1929]; Prawidla zycia
[Rules of Life, 1930]) and poetic prose, (Sam na sam z Bogiem: Modlitwy tych,
którzy sie nie modla [One On One With God: The Prayers of Those Who Do Not Pray,
1922]; Bezwstydnie krotkie [Shamelessly Brief, 1926]), as well as dramatic
works, of which only one has survived: Senat szalencow (Senate of the Madmen),
staged at the Ateneum Theater by S. Jaracz in 1931.The following text is from an account by Nachum Remba, a member of the underground self-defense organization in the ghetto, who had been delegated to Umschlagplatz. In his account, he was the last to speak with Korczak, proposing that they go to the Community to seek intervention. Dr. Korczak refused, however, because he did not want to leave the children alone even for a moment. "No! I will never forget that image. That was not a march to the wagons, but an organized, mute protest against banditism! Unlike the crushed mass of people who went to slaughter like cattle, a march began the likes of which had never been seen before. (...) Those were the first ranks who went to their death with dignity, looking at the barbarians with contempt. (...) Even the Order Service stood at attention and saluted. When the Germans saw Korczak, they asked: "Who is that man?" From E. Ringelblum, Kronika getta warszawskiego (Warsaw: Czytelnik, 1983), pp. 606-607.
Marek Rudnicki's account gives a different perspective on the last journey of Korczak and the orphans. Rudnicki followed Korczak and the children from the Orphans' Home on Sienna Street all the way to the "gate" on Umschlagplatz. "I don't want to be an iconoclast or a debunker of myths, but I must relate what I saw then. The atmosphere was dominated by an enormous sense of passivity, automatism and apathy. No one was visibly moved that it was Korczak who was going, there was no saluting (as some people describe), there certainly was no intervention on the part of Judenrat members, and no one approached Korczak. There were no gestures, no singing, no proudly lifted heads, and I don't remember whether anyone was carrying the banner of the Orphans' Home, though some people say this was the case. There was a terrible, exhausted silence. Korczak dragged his feet, hunched over, mumbling something to himself from time to time (...).
One other legend still exists for which no one has ever found solid evidence-that the Germans actually suggested to Korczak that he leave the Umschlagplatz. H. Grynberg has provided a very incisive interpretation of Korczak's final journey: "That amazement that a sick, old person, exhausted, abandoned, betrayed by the world in which he believed, a professional altruist, monk and the realest of saints (despite the anger, which he did not conceal) did not betray himself and did not hide in a hole to save his own pathetic biological being-that amazement-this was almost an abrogation of his entire life's work. Those speeches and tales of his heroic death because he did not want to leave the children on the way to the gas chambers and live as if nothing had ever happened-constitute the greatest disrespect for his noble soul." H. Grynberg, Prawda nieartystyczna (Unartistic Truth), (Berlin, Archipelag, 1984), p. 122.
No comments:
Post a Comment